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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27215722">Eye Of The Storm / Cumulonimbus</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snevving/pseuds/Snevving'>Snevving</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, MI6, Movie: Stormbreaker (Alex Rider), Pre-Canon, Pre-Movie, Spies</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:35:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,901</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27215722</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snevving/pseuds/Snevving</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Before Alex Rider, there was his uncle, Ian Rider. Before Ian Rider, it was her.</p><p>This work is based on the 2006 movie Stormbreaker, not the novels. This work may also contain scenes of a sexual nature.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Darrius Sayle / Original Female Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"To put it simply, we don't trust him." Alan Blunt said as he placed a file down on the desk. Jay looked up and raised an eyebrow.<br/>
"Darrius Sayle... CEO of Sayle Enterprises...the businessman?" She asked incredulously.<br/>
"He's not just a business man, he's a potential threat."<br/>
"And you're telling me why exactly? Shouldn't you be assigning an agent to this guy if you're that concerned?"<br/>
"We are, Agent Lawlor."<br/>
"What?" She said, but slowly clocked on to what he meant. "Woah, no way, I'm just a desk-jockey and you know it."<br/>
"We also know that you are extremely adept in computer science, coding, developing and whatnot."<br/>
"Of course you do, that's sort of my job here."<br/>
"Sayle announced he is giving away a model of his new computer to every school in the UK once it is fully developed. We also have intel that he is looking for a head computer scientist for his laboratory. We want you to be our inside man...woman."<br/>
"I already said no, I'm not a field agent."<br/>
"But you are trained for the field, aren't you?"<br/>
"Yes, but-"<br/>
"Then consider yourself promoted."<br/>
"Mr Blunt..." Jay began in protest, but sighed defeatedly. "What I want doesn't really matter here, does it?" She asked. Alan Blunt put on a sympathetic face and tone of voice usually reserved for the grieving families of agents killed in action. "No." He said. He placed another file on her desk. "In here is your new identity. Drivers licence, passport, bankcards, national insurance, birth certificate. As of this moment, Jay Lawlor no longer officially exists as a member of the public, you are now Elizabeth Croft. The pin numbers to those bankcards is your agent ID number, one-nine-eight-five. Don't forget it."<br/>
"Nineteen-eighty-five, right, got it."<br/>
"We've set you up an interview for the head position for Sayles lab, taking place on Thursday at 4PM. We will email you the address the day before. As of now, go home and await further instructions."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Something smells good.” Jay commented as she shut the front door behind her. Her flat-mate, Lynn, leaned her head out from the kitchen. “Oh, hey, how was work?” She asked. Jay shrugged. “Same old same old, it was work.” She said nonchalantly. Lynn just raised an eyebrow and went back into the kitchen, Jay soon following. “I made pasta Bolognese, can you get the cheese out from the fridge? I already grated it.” She said.<br/>“Alright...” Jay said, opening the old Indiset and grabbing the small tub, as swell as the milk bottle, much to Lynn’s disgust. “Really? I don’t understand how you can just drink that...”<br/>“Oh, milk’s cushty, Lynn.”<br/>“In tea maybe, but drinking it straight?”<br/>“Weirdo.”<br/>“Sicko... so, how many times do you tell someone to turn it off and on again today?” Lynn asked through a mouthful of pasta. “Is it a record breaker?”<br/>“Uh, no, it was only three times,” Jay said, grabbing her plate and sprinkling the grated cheddar over it. “Doesn’t even put a dent in eleven, does it?”<br/>“Not really, no.”<br/>“Anyway, I’m thinking of handing in my resignation soon.” She lied. Lynn snapped her head around.<br/>“What? Why?”<br/>“I’m getting a bit bored of it, and they decided to lump me with a task I’m nowhere near comfortable enough to do.” She continued. This part wasn’t so much of a lie. She did not want to do this mission. “Besides, I’ve managed to get an interview for head computer scientist at Sayle Enterprise... it pays a lot better and is definitely much more use of my degree than the glorified IT consultant I am at the bank.”<br/>“Woah, head techie? That must be a very important job, especially with the new Stormbreaker announcements...”<br/>“Yeah, I’m hoping I get it, it could mean a nicer flat.”<br/>“Moving out?” Lynn asked. <br/>“Oh heavens no, it doesn’t pay THAT much.” She said eating her own dinner. “But enough to do this flat up really nice and modern... I know it’s a bit dated...”<br/>“Yeah, it still has shag carpeting.” <br/>“Blame my grandparents for that, but man is it soft on your toes...”<br/>“It is. So you’re gonna be head techie at Sayles?”<br/>“Maybe, it’s just an interview, I probably won’t even get it.” She said. That was probably wrong, surely Alan would have a plan to make sure she got the job. </p><p>After dinner, she took a shower, then sat on her bed for ten minutes wrapped in just her towel. He skin was warm and pink from the heat of the shower. She looked at the file peeking from her bag. </p><p>Darrius Sayle. He had been around for a little while. Sh remembered seeing him on the news for the first time back in the late 90’s. She was fourteen, watching as he released his first computer to the general public. It was pretty good, she had one for her birthday. It was remarkable for the time. </p><p>It was fair to say in the years she’d known him from afar, that his appearance had changed almost as drastically as his wealth. He started out as a normal guy in a normal suit. Grim and professional, but as he got richer, his style changed to be more flashy, showy and ostentatious. Along with his fashion choice, his face had changed as well as Sayle got more and more acquainted with plastic surgery. </p><p>She looked at a picture of him in the file. It was recent, the other month marked by the time stamp.</p><p>He was a handsome man before all of the cosmetic procedures, not to say he wasn’t now, but there had clearly been some botches here and there. He made it work somehow. </p><p>The file contained the basic information, name, age, job description, and a tiny personality evaluation at the bottom. Textbook narcissism, intelligent, dry humoured, charismatic and charitable. Jay scoffed, she would have thought the MI6 would have slightly more in-depth files than what a couple of online searches and watching a TV interview could deduce. Then again, she knew some people in the research department, and that was definitely placing too much trust in them. </p><p>She felt a buzz and her mobile phone buzzed. It was a text from Royal and General bank.</p><p> “Hello, please visit our clients at the Prada store in Westfield tomorrow to talk about their branches account. Personal favour, if you may, could you also ask the manager about any decent clothes for my daughters job interview?”</p><p>Well, at least she had some instructions now, instead of sitting around doing nothing. She checked the time. It was eight o’ clock. Jay yawned. It wasn’t even late, but she was considering calling it an early night. Another yawn. She decided that getting a bit of sleep was a good idea, so she dried herself off, threw the towels in the laundry pile and turned the lights out before climbing into bed.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jay stood outside the store, rummaging through her bag. She needed to talk to the manager, but she wanted some chewing gum first. She had eaten a few slices of garlic bread for lunch. Finding the spearmint, she walked in and browsed some of the clothes casually. An assistant popped up from her left side. “Hi, can I help you?” She asked politely. Jay smiled. “Uh yeah, I was wondering if I could speak to your manager real quick.” She said. The sales assistant nodded her head. “Sure, no problem, let me just go get him.” She said, turning and heading over to the back of the stoor. Jay continued looking at clothing items she would have to sell organs to afford. She regarded it with little interest, but if she had the money, she would have it all and then some. Oh the woes of liking the fine things above her wage package. </p><p>“Hello there miss? Is there a problem?” He asked. She jumped out of surprise. What is it with shop workers just appearing from nowhere? “Uh yeah, I’m from the Royal and General Bank, I wanted to talk to you about the stores account.” <br/>“Right.” He said waiting for the next half. <br/>“Also, strange request, but my superior has told me to last you about clothing for a job interview?” She said. The man gave her a knowing look. “Ah yes, if you may follow me.” He said, taking her to the back of the stoor, through the staff only area and back into the stock room.</p><p>There was a table with several things laid out in a display, a sign saying ‘do not touch, special collection only’ taped to the wood. “Agent Lawlor. These are your new toys.”<br/>“Do take me through it.” She said smiling. The man picked up the first item, a small umbrella. Jay raised her eyebrows, a little underwhelmed. “This isn’t for just keeping you dry on a rainy day, look at the cap.” He said. It was steel, spider like appendages sloping down, sharp barbed hooks at the ends. He opened it up and turned it upside down. There was a large spool at the top of it. He pointed at it. “This is a long roll of super strength, steel cable, it’s attached to the cap. This button here on the handle allows you to shoot it out, and the butting here starts to motor to pull it back in.”<br/>“So it’s like a grappling hook.” Jay said.<br/>“Yeah, basically... onto the next items, the lipsticks.” He continued, picking up a bag of five and taking them out. He picked up the first one. He took the lid off revealing not a deep mauve like the colour suggested, but a sharp little blade. “Simple enough. This next one is a little multi head screwdriver, so if you have to take out some screws, you can. The third one is a little smoke screen in case you need to disappear fast. The fourth one is a little taser.”<br/>“And the fifth one?”<br/>“Is just lipstick.”<br/>“Oh... anything else?”<br/>“Here, an eyeshadow palette. Some nice tones, but if you lift the tray up...” he trailed off as he done as he described. It beeped and a screen appeared. “Bug finder and listening device, also this anti aging eye cream will eat through any metal items.” He said. Jay nodded. <br/>“Alright, impressive.”<br/>“Here, last little something for you.” He said, handing her a fountain pen. Nice enough, makes any writing look lovely, but underneath the inkwell is four cartridges and a needle. Poison, adrenaline, anaesthetic.”<br/>“What’s that last one?”<br/>“Oh, a delightful little drug that if injected into someone, makes them easily persuaded to do what you tell them to. It works for up to six hours.”<br/>“Oh, wicked, and these clothes?”<br/>“For your interview.”<br/>“Right. Thank you.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jay spent the next two days doing nothing. And by God did she love doing nothing.</p><p>Lounging around, playing PlayStation...</p><p>Okay, maybe not nothing, but nothing productive. </p><p>Well, expect cooking dinner. </p><p>Doing laundry.</p><p>Hoovering?</p><p>It seemed she couldn’t even do ‘nothing’ correctly.</p><p> </p><p>Now she sat on a cream coloured settee in a bright waiting room. She was slightly early so now had twenty minutes of emptiness to fill. A lady walked by and took a double take. “Who are you?” She asked in a harsh accent. Jay jumped a little. “Ja-” She started, but quickly corrected herself. “Just Elizabeth...”<br/>
“Just Elizabeth?” She repeated, frowning slightly.<br/>
“No, sorry, you just startled me is all. I’m Elizabeth Croft, I’m here for an interview?”<br/>
“You’re early.”<br/>
“Yes, sorry, I just can’t stand being late, it makes me really paranoid...”<br/>
“It’s fine, early is good, ja?” She said, pursing her already thin, plum painted lips. Jay, or Elizabeth now, nodded agreeably.<br/>
“Most workplaces have that opinion.” She said. “Yes, however don’t be too early, you might see things you shouldn’t.” She said. Elizabeth gave a quick side eye. That was a bit of an odd thing to say. Surely companies would try not to discourage early arrival. It was nothing majorly concerning though. “My name is Nadia Vole, I work as Mr Sayles representative.”<br/>
“So, PR?”<br/>
“It is very important.” She said.<br/>
“No doubt.”<br/>
“I shall see if Mr Sayle is ready for you now.”<br/>
“Woah, Mr Sayle? He’s doing my interview?”<br/>
“Ja, why?”<br/>
“It’s just, I didn’t expect the CEO to be conducting the screenings...”<br/>
“He usually doesn’t, but you have applied for very high level job. He wants to see for himself.”<br/>
“I suppose so... it was nice to meet you, hopefully we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.”<br/>
“Ja, and hopefully Mr Sayle likes you as much as me.” She said, walking off, the sound of her Louboutin red-bottoms clacking down the corridor.</p><p>Elizabeth wondered what she had meant by that.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Looking at you now, the word's 'computer geek' doesn't come to mind." He said, his dry accent crackling. It was lazy and relaxed, not unlike his posture. He had a slight half-cocked grin.<br/>
"One might make similar assumptions about you." She said, crossing her legs over one another. Sayle watched, adjusting his toothpick with an eyebrow raised.<br/>
"You have some very impressive qualifications on your resume, if I may say so..." He said, flicking through a small folder. She smiled. They may have had Elizabeth's name on them. but they were as real as day.<br/>
"Thank you... I worked really hard for them." She said.<br/>
"I bet you did, Oxford, Cambridge, these are very prestigious schools, Miss Croft. And the references, the bank, multiple satisfied customers from your little system building side hustle. I'd say you're more than educated and skilled for the job, so really, the main question is why? Why should you work for me?" He asked, leaning in. Elizabeth frowned. She needed this job, the fate of the mission depended on it. She needed to play him right to get anywhere. She adjusted herself in a way that made her dress ride up her thigh. A little bit of innocent sex appeal couldn't hurt. Now it was time for the backbone. Playing hard to get could work. She nodded. "Indeed, why should I work for you? Well, why not?” She asked. “You said it yourself, I’m more than qualified. I’m loyal too, diligent... so why should I work for you, why shouldn’t take my skills elsewhere? Why shouldn’t I go to Microsoft, or Apple? I don’t think you understand, I’m still working at the bank, it’s a good job, pays well enough. Why should I leave to work here? I don’t have to convince you, Mr Sayle.” She said. His eyes lingered on her thigh and back up to her face. A mask of satisfaction slid over him.<br/>
“Microsoft and Apple... they’re good companies. Not amazing, but good enough. They’d pay you well to join them. But they’ve got nothing on this, this right here.”<br/>
“Indeed.”<br/>
“You’re lucky, Miss Croft... as soon as I read your file, I knew, see I’ve made up my mind about you. I want you. I really want you, but you’ve worried me with this ‘Apple and Microsoft” talk. I usually get what I want.”<br/>
“Do you now?” She asked innocently. She didn’t really know where she was going with this. She was sure Alan would be having an aneurysm if he could see this. “Yes, Miss Croft, I do...” He said, pulling out a briefcase and laying it down on the table. He pushed it towards her. She frowned. “Open it.” He said, his dark eyes unblinking. She clicked the locks and lifted the lid. It was filled with banknotes, scores, all stacked neatly and secured with rubber bands. “Mr Sayle, what is this?”<br/>
“This, my dear Elizabeth, is ten-thousand reasons I will get what I want. This is your signing bonus.”<br/>
“Wow, I don’t know what to say...”<br/>
“And it will be all yours as soon as you sign the contract.” He said, sliding along a paper document and a pen. “Just sign here.” He flicked to the back and pointed at the dotted line. Elizabeth thumbed the paper.<br/>
“I’d like to read it first, if that’s okay...”<br/>
“Oh Elizabeth, you do know how to tease a man... go ahead.” He chuckled. She glanced at him incredulously and then back to the contract. It was a few pages thick, but nothing arduous. Admittedly though, Sayles gaze was slightly distracting, more so the smirk. She kept reading in the silence before she caught herself on a few clauses.</p>
<p>“Terms of confidentiality?”<br/>
“Yes, should you agree to work for me, we wouldn’t want you to talk to anyone else about what goes on in the labs.”<br/>
“Why?”<br/>
“You know, I wouldn’t want any of my competitors getting ahold of my trade secrets.”<br/>
“Fair point. And this one, cohabitant?”<br/>
“Well, the lab’s all the way in Cornwall, you surely wouldn’t expect me to make you travel to and from everyday, now would you?”<br/>
“So where would I be living then?”<br/>
“In my manor, with the other essential workers.”<br/>
“Right then... everything else looks in order. When will I start?”<br/>
“Monday.”<br/>
“And when am I moving in?”<br/>
“Tomorrow.”<br/>
“That’s a bit soon, isn’t it?”<br/>
“Well, it will give you a few days to settle in before you start working.”<br/>
“So... I think I’ll sign the contract now.” She said, picking the pen up. Now, to remember. Her name was Elizabeth Croft.</p>
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